


Love Us Both

by teenage_hustler



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Consensual Infidelity, F/M, Sexual Fantasy, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 16:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenage_hustler/pseuds/teenage_hustler
Summary: Harry and Pansy have been together for over three years, and Pansy finds herself in the bizarre position of being happier than she’s ever been while not having the option to be with more than one person. Then she notices that Harry might be harbouring feelings for somebody else.I originally wrote this for dragyn_42 in 2013's Smutty Claus exchange on Livejournal. This fic reflects what I consider to be a sex life ideal. Share partners. Have fun. All that good stuff.





	Love Us Both

“Ow!”

Pansy was not normally one that vocally express her feelings. Be it pain, shock, happiness, pleasure, she was more the type to carefully construct her face into a constant expression of wry amusement mixed with aloofness, all the better to ensure that nobody knew exactly what she was thinking.

But even the aristocratic Pansy Parkinson had her limits, and her lover slamming her against their bedroom door was one of them.

Pansy might have commented further on the forcefulness of said lover’s actions, had he not then claimed her lips with his in a kiss that was as decadent as it was desperate. He had evidently been holding off from this for some time. Like, at least half an hour.

“Honestly, Potter,” she managed to articulate once he had moved from her lips to her neck and she had rearranged her tongue to a position more suitable for speech, “one would think you were a wild animal in heat, the way you’re carrying o--onnn.” He had just found a spot on her neck that, when stimulated, made thinking extremely difficult.

“You started it,” Harry Potter said. Growled would perhaps be the more accurate term. “This dress is so short that it does not make logical sense,” His hand slid downwards, and, indeed, he barely had to lift the tiny, tight-fitting skirt before making contact with the expensive lace underneath. She felt him smile as her breath audibly hitched. “And with those shoes of yours, and your hair like this” – he tugged at her high ponytail – “and of course, these” – his hand swept over her lacy undergarment again, and it was only years of self-control that prevented Pansy from doing something so juvenile as squirming – “This is so deliberate."

“Oh Potter, really now,” Pansy said, her practiced hands undoing Harry’s shirt buttons. “I would never do such a thing.”

“That is complete and utter bullshit.”

“Believe what you like.” Pansy pulled Harry’s shirt off with more force than most would expect a petite woman such as she to have, then started with his belt. “Just continue fucking me.”

“Oh, I will.” Harry hoisted her up. As she wrapped her legs around him and initiated their next kiss, she found herself wondering if sex would ever get any better than this.

\--

Of course, in practice, Pansy knew that sex could get better. As an accomplished young business woman in her late 20s, she knew that she was hardly at the stage of life where she should consider taking out broom, wand and contents insurance and subscribing to Magical Zimmerframes Weekly. Yet, a not-so-small part of her missed her younger years. Her late teens and early 20s, when she was single and adventurous, and like all former members of Slytherin House, a great believer in seeking out any and all experiences that might prove beneficial to her – or more specifically, her pleasure.

Then she had to go and fall in love with The Boy Who Lived.

Pansy strongly felt that the details of her and Harry getting together were nowhere near as interesting as the mere fact that they were together. The details were so conventional that they bordered on extremely boring. He was a rookie Auror, she a junior reporter, they both worked in the Ministry, they started chatting during their lunch hours and getting to know each other in a way that being in rival houses during Hogwarts days did not allow, one Ministry Christmas Party saw them eventually sharing a bottle of Firewhiskey in Harry’s office before tearing each other’s clothes off and giving themselves some fairly intense carpet burn, a year later they moved in together, and such was the status quo until the present day, three years and two months later. There were a couple of embarrassingly tearful and emotional declarations of love and rest-of-life commitment along the way, and occasionally, when very drunk, Pansy even admitted out loud that some such declarations were made by her.

Despite her strong preference for keeping her thoughts to herself most of the time, unless it would prove advantageous to her to express them, one thing Pansy admitted with reasonable ease was that she was probably happier now, with Harry, than she had been before he was around. His presence made her feel… not as fazed about all of the irritating things that she noticed in her day-to-day life. Indeed, when the irritating things became too much and her natural instinct was to think “fuck this shit” and go into a quiet and preferably dark room somewhere for a while, she now had the more appealing option of going to Harry and telling him about it. He was always so interested in what she had to say, and weirdly, she listened to him as well, with almost equally genuine interest, when he felt the need to rant about stupid workmates, or political administration getting out of hand, or anything else that bothered him during his day. 

She knew it was love, and she would scorn herself for it if she did not find it so agreeable. The only problem she found about this whole business was the rigidness that seemed to come with it. According to Harry, their being a couple now meant that neither of them could pursue relationships with other people. Not that Pansy had found anybody else she would have been interested in pursuing a relationship with, per se, but she never-the-less would have liked the option. She was certain that such action on her part would break Harry's heart, though.

Harry repeatedly told her that he would never cheat on her by being with another woman. After briefly wondering why Harry would limit himself to just women in the first place, Pansy wondered if it was cheating when the partner allegedly being cheated on was fully aware and indeed supportive of the alleged cheater’s decision. At which point his Gryffindorian mentality short-circuited at the very notion of there being such a thing as acceptable polygamy, and he would sputter something along the lines of “I will not get together with another woman, Pansy. I just won’t.”

More’s the pity, Pansy always thought. She would have loved to watch.

\--

The day after that rather fabulous dinner date saw Pansy in the Daily Prophet studio, sitting in a desk chair, using what of her concentration she could spare not wondering where the hell her coffee refill was considering the scene in front of her.

“Do you think their outfits are too cheesy?” Parvati Patil asked, the magical camera she would be out of the job without looking frighteningly wobbly clutched in her delicate hand.

“Hmm.” Pansy made a non-committal noise despite wholeheartedly agreeing with one of the finest photographers Wizarding Britain had ever known. This had not been Pansy’s idea. She would have thought that being the publicist for the nation’s most beloved Quidditch team would give her some power over how said team looked during media exposes. But apparently the tasteless (and appallingly misogynistic) British Quidditch Board begged to differ. In the BQB's firm opinion, if the Holyhead Harpies were going to be in the front page of this week’s Sunday Prophet, then they’d damn well better be doing it in as little clothing as possible. On this occasion the outfit of choice was emerald green bikini tops, pale yellow mini skirts, knee-high green socks and trainers.

Pansy didn’t know why the board did not just hand the girls some pom poms and douse their near-naked bodies with water and be done with it. These oafs have no subtlety at all.

“Your coffee, Miss Parkinson.” Pansy flashed her most brilliant fake about-fucking-time smile at the assistant and took the warm beverage. One long drink later, and she felt her looming headache start to subside.

“Pansy!”

And back the headache came. “Yes, She-Weasel?”

Ginny Weasley, star Chaser of the Harpies, extracted herself from the other players, pushed Parvati out of the way, and marched towards her. Pansy would have objected and told her to get the fuck back on the set lest she receive no royalties from this expose, were she not experiencing an uncomfortable level of sympathy towards Ginny and the other players.

And also being momentarily hypnotised by the sight of Ginny's physique. But Pansy could not offer much of a defence there; the girl was hot.

“Pansy, this is fucking ridiculous. I’m a Chaser, not a cheerleader, and even cheerleaders get to wear more clothing than this. The set looks like a porn film, we are all so cold our nipples are in danger of tearing through these might-as-well-not-be-there tops, and those dickheads over there have been staring at us for two hours and I don’t have my wand handy to hex them.”

Pansy raked a hand across her forehead. This was just not fair. Not only did it completely shit over the Harpies’ sense of dignity, but it also lowered the quality of the shoot as a whole. None of it was fitting together, and if even the miracle eye of Parvati Patil could not save it, something had to change, the opinions of their managers be damned. The Harpies were her girls too, dammit, and they deserved nothing but the best.

“You’re right,” she ended up saying to Ginny, taking another sip of coffee and standing up. “You’re completely right. Everyone!” She clapped her hands, and everybody involved with the shoot turned toward her. “We’re changing this. This concept is one of the dumbest ideas the BQB have ever conjured, and coming from the Board that re-instated the Cannons 250 years ago, that is really saying something. Everyone take ten, you girls get some weather-appropriate clothes on, and I’ll think of something else.”

Everyone except the dickheads Ginny had previously mentioned cheered, and Pansy received several high fives as the Harpies and photo crew filed out. Once they were gone Pansy turned back to the set, smiling to herself. With a wave of her wand, the short grass of the outdoor football field turned to polished wooden floors. The fake blue sky became cream coloured walls adorned with soft candles, and the goal posts and markers became small two-seater tables. The restaurant setting was elegant, refined, and incredibly familiar to her.

“Hmm. Now where have I seen this before?”

Pansy turned toward the voice, raising an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you remember what it looked like. You were staring at my breasts all evening.”

“We’re trained to take in all of our surroundings in the Auror program,” Harry answered, taking Pansy’s hand. “And I won’t apologise for staring when you so obviously had them on show.”

“Touche.” Pansy smiled and kissed Harry on the cheek. “Are you done for the day?”

“Yeah. Shacklebolt walked in on us playing catch with Duncan’s Remembrall. When we explained that we finished our paperwork an hour ago he figured we could have an early mark. People need to start committing more crimes or we’ll be out of the job.”

“Arrest people for being ugly?” Pansy suggested. “That’s a crime. Or at least, it should be.”

“I’ll suggest it at our next Monthly.” Harry’s sarcasm could have taken down a full-grown elephant. He glanced again at the new set. “How’s your day progressing?”

“Painfully slowly. But things should happen faster now. I don’t suppose you feel like keeping me company?”

“I dunno,” Harry answered, pretending to think about it. “Watching my girlfriend be all sexy and commanding in the work place? I really can’t see the appeal.”

“Git.” Pansy conjured up a chair for him as the Harpies trotted back into the studio, wearing matching green and gold tracksuits. Upon seeing Harry, Ginny broke free of the others and came back over to them, an enormous smile on her face.

“Hey Gin!" Harry's grin matched Ginny's as he enveloped her in the sort of warm, consuming hug of which Pansy had never been particularly fond. Harry had assured her many times that it was something non-Slytherin folk enjoyed doing with people they cared about, so she took his word for it. As long as he never tried it on her.

"All right?" Harry asked her, once the near-nauseating embrace had concluded.

“Better now. Look at what those pigs at the BQB wanted us to wear for this thing.” She unzipped her jacket and pulled it open, showing him both the tiny bikini top and the expanses of pale, smooth, freckled flesh uncovered by it.

Pansy looked over at Harry and had to fight the urge to laugh. It was a fantastic deer-in-the-headlights moment. Harry’s eyes had gone wide as saucers as he stared at Ginny’s fabulous body. Pansy wondered if maybe he'd reverted back to his 16-year-old self, because although she was aware that it had been a while since either of them had seen the other in very little clothing, it was not as though Harry was looking at anything he had not seen before.

“At least Pansy is smart enough to know a bad idea when she sees one," Ginny continued, oblivious to Harry's stares. "I like this new set, Pans. What’s the theme?”

“Quidditch Stars in Black Tie,” Pansy answered. “Hardly original, but I think it’s an appropriate balance between beautiful and classy, which is what I was going for.”

“Nice. I suppose I’d better get into costume then.”

“I suppose you’d better.”

Ginny trotted back toward her teammates, and Pansy glanced back towards Harry, who continued to stare after Ginny as she left as though she were some sort of ethereal being. Now she started to feel concerned. This was not like him at all. Pansy knew Ginny was hot, but Harry had seen plenty of hot women before. Hell, he saw her every day. She snapped her fingers in front of Harry’s face.

“Huh?” Harry blinked, swiping Pansy’s hand away.

“Geez Potter, I thought I was the only girl you had eyes for these days,” Pansy teased.

She had been hoping for Harry to get rid of the "serious face" and make some quip about Ginny being far easier on his eye as she was less likely to punch it. Instead his frown, if anything, deepened.

“Of course you are, Pansy," he finally said, after a few seconds of uncomfortably intense silence. "Why would you suggest otherwise?"

He then sat in the chair that Pansy had lovingly conjured up for him, rested his chin on his fisted hand and stared straight ahead, leaving Pansy to wonder what the hell was going on with him. It obviously involved Ginny somehow, but Pansy was not aware of any changes in their dynamic that would cause him to act so out of character. Indeed, if Pansy's memory served her correctly, he had only ever gotten like this once before in the time she'd known him, and that was during that iconic office Christmas party. He had stared at her, deadly serious and deathly quiet, for hours, until she pulled him to his office with that bottle of Firewhiskey and he eventually told her how he felt about her...? Surely Harry wouldn't ... not while he was ... with her ... it goes against everything he believes in. But it would be so delightful if that were what it was...

No. Pansy shouldn't get hopeful. She loved Harry, but he was stubborn as a mule about his principles. There was definitely no way it could be ... that.

\--

It was definitely ... that.

After the Harpies returned in black evening wear, Pansy spent the next three hours on her feet, chatting with Parvati and the girls, positioning them around the set, asking Parvati to capture them in a sexy yet sophisticated light, and being laughed at by Parvati and asked to "please, Parkinson, feel free to give me an actual challenge once in a while". For a period of time with absolutely no sex involved, Pansy had a very enjoyable afternoon.

The same could not be said for Harry. For someone who normally would get right into the action during photo shoots, offering his normally completely asinine opinion and telling Pansy that if she let him organise everything it could be done much faster, this afternoon he was very quiet indeed. He just sat and watched them all, his expression blank from lack of interest. The only time Pansy noticed him appearing at all interested was when Ginny was on the set by herself. Then, Pansy was fairly sure that a Thestral-drawn carriage could have exploded nearby and he would not have noticed. All he could see was her.

By the end of the shoot it was so blatantly obvious what was going on that Pansy was as amazed that nobody else had noticed as she was amazed at herself for not realising that something like this might happen. She knew that Harry and Ginny had history, and Harry had never made it secret that he still cared for her a great deal, so of course there was a chance that he would still feel something else for her. And that he obviously did, because he had never looked at anybody else that way.

Except her, of course.

\--

"All right Potter, out with it," she said when they made it through their front door that evening.

"Huh?" Harry flopped onto their couch. He looked so exhausted that Pansy almost felt sorry enough for him to stop grilling him.

Almost.

"Don't play dumb with me. You barely said a word all afternoon, and the only time you seemed at all interested in anything was when the She-Weasel was on the set. Then, it was like she was the most fascinating thing in the world. I know that look, Harry. You fancy her."

"What?" Harry's voice bordered on falsetto. "Pansy, that's... how can you think that? That I would betray you? Has the meaning of the past few years not sunk in--"

"Woah, woah! Hold on, four-eyes. Betraying me? I don't think anything of the sort."

"But you just accused me of being in love with Ginny!"

If she hadn't been close to feeling very annoyed indeed, Pansy would have taken a moment to rejoice at the opportunity to get all school-teacher-reprimanding. "First of all, I did not actually say that you were in love with her. I said that you fancy her. Secondly and more importantly, why would your fancying Ginny, or even your being in love with Ginny, mean that you were betraying me?"

Harry stared at her for a moment as though she had spontaneously grown an extra head. He then removed his glasses, the better to pinch the bridge of his nose and heave a dramatic sigh.

"Pansy," he finally said, "we have been through this. I cannot, and will not, ever consider having a relationship with anybody else while I am with you. Doing such a thing is called adultery, and it is wrong. I can't pretend to be perfect Pansy, but damn it, I'm honourable. Especially towards the people I love."

It took most of Pansy's willpower to not mimic Harry's dramatic sigh. She was reminded of the one time at Hogwarts she was unable to escape being cornered by a Hufflepuff, who proceeded to spend a good ten minutes crapping on about how important it was to be nice to absolutely everybody on the planet. She had had to engage in a long discussion about Muggle religion with a Ravenclaw afterwards just to make sure the Hufflepuff's stupidity hadn't rubbed off on her. Not only had the Hufflepuff's words been incredibly stupid, but they were also dangerous. Be nice to everyone? Even people who bully and abuse? Who vindictively hurt people? Who kill?

That was the stupidest piece of advice she had ever heard. And now Harry had just presented her, again, with the stupidest life philosophy she had ever heard. But worse than stupid, it was insulting. How dare he suggest that the only honourable type of relationship to have is with one other person? How dare he think that being in love with more than one person is wrong? And most importantly, how dare he, in thinking this, deny himself a chance at something he clearly wants out of the misguided belief that it would be like he was betraying her?

He wasn't betraying her by acting like this. He was betraying himself.

And Pansy was going to teach him a lesson.

\--

Pansy heard the front door open the next evening and felt a little thrill go up her spine. She had taken the afternoon off to prepare for this, and the whole exercise was taking her back to her younger years.

Only this time it was better, because she was doing it for the man she loved.

Pansy felt a little bit ill admitting something so sickening sweet, even if it was just inside her head.

"Something smells good," came Harry's voice, sounding decidedly more chipper than it had 24 hours ago.

"I've just opened a bottle," Pansy called back.

"Excellent!" Harry appeared at the kitchen doorway...

And stopped in his tracks.

Pansy grinned, allowing her hands to lightly caress the sides of her barely-there dress as she sidled up to him. That probably would have been enough to give Harry pause. Although Pansy suspected that what had really paused him was the sight of Ginny Weasley, sitting on the counter top with a wine glass in hand, wearing a small black garment that in many ways was very similar to Pansy's. Pansy was pretty impressed that she had managed to find that thing on such short notice.

"Here's your glass, Harry," Ginny said.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again. He offered Ginny a weak smile before grabbing Pansy and pulling her into the hallway.

"What the actual buggering hell, Pans?"

"I was hoping for something a bit less little-boy-terrified, I must say," Pansy offered as a substitute for a suitable answer.

"I'm serious. Is this some kind of joke? Or some sort of twisted test?"

"I prefer to think of it as an opportunity, myself," Pansy answered. "An opportunity for you to work out your feelings."

"So basically this test is redundant, then?" Harry tried his best to give her a trademark Slytherin smirk, but it was not very convincing. It did not reach his eyes, for one. "I hope you’re not going to be too disappointed to discover that you actually are my one and only."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll cope if that is the case."

"It is the case."

"Well then there is no reason for you to be annoyed with me in the first place. Now why don't we have some dinner and drink some wine like a grown-up couple having dinner with their grown-up friend like three grown-ups?"

"Fine!" Harry practically stormed back into the kitchen, leaving Pansy to hope that she was right about this. She didn't think her pride would be able to cope if she weren't.

\--

Dinner was delicious, if Pansy did say so herself. Although she did not think she could necessarily offer the quality of the food as cause. Because as the meal progressed, Pansy was becoming more and more sure that she was definitely not wrong about this.

The three of them laughed and joked, mostly about Quidditch, during their entrees. When Pansy left and came back with the main course, the two of them were deep in conversation and sitting slightly closer to each other than when she left. Pansy caught Ginny's eye and gave her a wink, to which Ginny grinned back.

Three bottles of wine between them later, and the conversation over dessert was had become slightly more ridiculous.

"So,", Harry was saying, "If you went back in time, found past-you, and started eating yourself, would it appear on present-you?"

"Surely not," Pansy argued. "Because it's not past-you; it's two present-yous."

"Well yeah, but that's just semantics, Pans," Ginny replied. "If your life is a continuum, the you that is eating exits after the you that is being eaten. Therefore... oh wait, the bite would already be on present-you’s arm anyway. We've just wasted precious breath and brain cells having this discussion."

"I can't make these conversations make sense in my head when I'm sober," Pansy admitted before taking another sip of wine. "At least when drunk I have an excuse for my idiocy."

"Alcohol: The Ultimate Excuse!" Ginny held up a bottle in a toasting motion, tipped her head back to down the last few drops, and the rest of her body started following her towards the floor. Or it would have done, had Harry's fast reflexes not acted on autopilot and caught her.

"Thanks," she said, patting him on the shoulder and letting her hand linger a second longer than was necessary.

"You're welcome."

The two of them continued to stare at each other. Pansy wondered if it was weird that she felt the scene desperately needed a bucket of popcorn.

"So," Ginny said, "Did you have fun tonight?"

Harry nodded. "I did actually. But I always do with you Gin - you're good for a laugh."

"As are you, most of the time." Ginny glanced at Pansy before turning back to him. "Indeed, I'm surprised you were in such a good mood tonight. Pansy warned me you might be a bit grouchy."

"Did she just?" Harry threw Pansy a dirty look, or at least the best imitation he could give whilst drunk. Mostly he just looked cutely frustrated.

"Yeah, she did. And I thought it made sense. You were acting a bit strange towards me yesterday. I was wondering if maybe I'd done something to upset you."

"Oh, Gin." Harry placed a hand on top of hers, and Pansy was not too ashamed to admit that she leaned forward in her seat slightly at this moment. "You haven't done anything. I'm just ... feeling a bit confused about things, I guess."

"Things ... to do with me?" Ginny's face was a perfect combination of worry and sadness, her fingers now lightly tracing the top of Harry's hand.

"Things ... that need not concern you. Don't worry Gin, I'm not going to do anything to hurt--"

Harry was silenced, by Ginny drawing closer to him and placing a finger over his lips. A few seconds of silence passed, where Pansy felt as though the tension could be cut with a knife, and it would need to be cut with a fairly sharp one at that. As Ginny slowly removed her finger, but made no move to shuffle backwards and stop invading his personal space, Harry managed to whisper the final word of his utterance: "You."

Then Ginny kissed him.

Pansy saw the slump of relaxation in his shoulders, as well as the smile tugging at his lips. He must have momentarily forgotten himself and his so-called honour, because he started to kiss her back. She was not sure if everybody would feel the same way, but Pansy had not seen anything so hot since looking at herself in the mirror that morning.

Harry then seemed to realise what he was doing, because he suddenly pushed Ginny away as though she had spontaneously combusted.

"Gin!" he exclaimed, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth. "What the hell? I have a girlfriend. She's sitting right there."

"Yeah," Pansy agreed. "Saw the whole thing. Very captivating, I must say. I don't suppose we can rewind so I can watch the kiss again, do you?"

"I ... you ... what ... Pansy, what on EARTH is wrong with you?" Harry stumbled out of his chair and took three decent steps away from them both. "I've just kissed another woman! Why aren't you upset about this?"

"Why should I be upset about this?" Pansy counter-questioned.

"Because it's wrong!"

"Why is it wrong through?" Pansy stood up now too, the better to be at Harry's eye level. "You kissed someone who was not me. Do I appear to be upset about it?"

"Well, no. But that doesn't--"

"Does your kissing Ginny mean that you suddenly love me any less?"

"Of course not, but it should make you love me less--"

"No, Harry. It shouldn't." Pansy would have loved to have been less drunk when saying what she was about to say, but she was fairly sure it would ruin the moment if she suddenly ran off to get Sober-Up potion. "I know you and your Gryffindor housemates think that there is only one noble and good way to love, which is to love one person at a time, maybe for your entire life. I get that you all think that, but I am telling you right now that you are wrong. It annoys me that I have to say this out loud, but you are the most noble person I know. And I also know that you are in love with two people, and frankly, I want you to be noble, and true to yourself, and love us equally."

"But ... Pansy, that's ... what about Ginny? Surely she should be free to find someone to love her unconditionally?"

"If I wanted someone who loved me and only me, maybe I should," Ginny said, standing next to Pansy. "But that's not what I want. What I want is you."

"And what I want," Pansy said, taking Ginny's hand and pulling her over to Harry, "is for the two of you to start snogging again. In fact I want it so much that I might just threaten to break up with you if you don't."

Harry looked at each of the two women in turn, the look of scared bewilderment not leaving his face. Ginny then stepped forward and took Harry's hand in hers. Something about the gesture, or the quietly confident smirk on Ginny's face, or maybe even the effect of the alcohol must have done something, because the next time he turned to her, he looked less worried, more interested.

"Have you ever wondered about what my sex life was like before you, Pansy?"

"Oh," Pansy replied smoothly. "Countless times."

\--

"Ow!"

Pansy smirked to herself. The irony was not lost on her. Like herself, she knew that Ginny was not the sort of person to voice pain. Although in Ginny's case it was less to do with not wanting to reveal her emotions to the world, and more to do with wanting to appear tough.

But Pansy guessed that Ginny must also be prone to forgetting herself a tad when Harry Potter has shoved her against a wall.

Ginny looked about to question whether it had been necessary for Harry to apply that much force, but his lips on hers cut her off. As they kissed, Ginny's hands moved between them to take off Harry's shirt. Pansy had to resist laughing at the amount the redhead witch fumbled with his shirt buttons. Clearly it had been a while for her.

As she finally managed to get his shirt and trousers off, Harry seemed to grow tired of the wall. To be fair, that was not terribly unusual of him. He pulled Ginny towards the bed, allowing Pansy a brief moment to take another sip of wine without missing anything.

Harry crawled onto the bed after Ginny, his lips moving to place feathery light kisses on her neck. His hands, meanwhile, found the zipper of her dress and leisurely pulled it down. Pansy thought it interesting that Harry was proceeding more slowly and gently with Ginny than he tended to with her. Fast, hard, and many times over was Pansy's general preference, and she would have guessed that Ginny’s preferences would be comparable to that, judging by the similar way in which she scored goals in Quidditch. But maybe Pansy was wrong. Either way, this was fascinating to watch.

Harry lifted the dress up and over Ginny's head with practiced ease. Now in just her underwear (Pansy had definitely made the right decision encouraging her to wear the matching deep red set), Harry paused for a moment, holding Ginny at arm's length.

"What?" she asked.

"Just ... you're so hot, Gin."

Ginny grinned, her hands finding his on either side of her waist and pulling him closer. "I get hotter, as I'm sure you remember," she said. Well, if Pansy were writing this scene, she might have used the word "purred".

"It's kind of hard to forget, if I'm honest."

"Well, that's very good and all," Pansy interrupted them, "but some of us haven't seen this yet, and would kind of like to, while we're still young."

"Is she always this impatient when you're doing it?" Ginny asked, lying on the bed.

"Oh no, she's normally much worse." Harry answered as he positioned himself next to her. "She never savours the moment."

Pansy opened her mouth to protest, but Harry chose that moment to reach under Ginny and unhook her bra, and the importance of her protest dramatically lessened. Pansy had always considered herself a breast lover, and Ginny's were magnificent. Big, but not to an extent that would look obnoxious on Ginny's reasonably slender frame, and pert, held up by her youth and the insane exercise regime that was part of her profession. Harry brushed his fingers over one, causing the nipple to harden instantly and Ginny to involuntarily shudder.

Harry kissed Ginny's other breast, lingering long enough for her to squirm underneath him as his breath ghosted over the sensitive flesh. He then came back up to kiss her on the lips again while his hand trailed down her chest, stomach, waist, and finally reached the waistband of her lacy red knickers.

She lifted her hips for him, and he performed an act of coordination that Pansy had previously not known him to be capable of, and removed the delicate scrap of material with one hand. Pansy supposed she would have known he could do that, were she not the type to remove her own panties before bed logistics ever became an issue.

Ginny removed Harry's trunks with much less skill. It was almost comical how unpractised she was at the more practical aspects of sex. Or maybe it was Ginny's general lack of grace. Either way, she seemed relieved when Harry was free of his only remaining article of clothing. Although that might have been satisfaction upon witnessing how hard he already was for her.

"Let's see how you're feeling," Harry now said, sliding a hand down her body again and stopping between her thighs. Pansy could not see what he did next, but she assumed from the small sigh that exited Ginny's mouth that he had either brushed her clit or inserted a finger or two inside her.

"Quite wet," Harry murmured. "Could be wetter though." Again, Pansy could not see the specifics, but she could see Ginny tilt her head back and start breathing more heavily. This was soon accompanied by barely noticeable thrusts into Harry's hand, and the way Ginny's breasts moved backwards and forwards with her thrusts was, Pansy had to admit, even hotter than her own reflection in the mirror that morning.

"I think that will probably do it," Harry said, removing his hand.

"Errrhh!" Ginny protested. She tried to sit up, but Harry placed a firm hand on her belly to stop her. She gave up instantly, and Pansy had to recognise another difference. Pansy wanted to see everything and make deciding movements and actions with Harry. Her logic was that if he was going to pleasure her, he had to do it correctly, and she expected the same amount of communication from him. Ginny was far more relaxed than that. She seemed to be more interested in experiencing sensations as they were offered than in dictating what sensations she wanted to experience.

Harry repositioned himself on top of her, holding his hardness at her entrance. He reached forward to kiss her again, slowly inserting himself into her at the same time. When he reached the hilt Ginny lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist.

They stayed still for a couple of moments, just looking at each other. Pansy wondered if Harry was proposing bringing Ginny to orgasm by just staying still like that. Ginny might prefer it slower, but she was fairly sure that still she would not appreciate a speed of exactly 0mph.

Then Harry started to move, and the purpose of the moment of stillness became clear. It was a build-up, a chance to adjust: for Ginny to get used to his girth and for Harry to control himself enough to give her the gradual build-up she wanted. As he moved now he kept his thrusts slow, sliding out of Ginny slightly, then sliding gently back in. He kept this up for a few moments and Ginny moved with him, sinking as he pulled out, then coming to meet him as he pushed back in.

Then they started moving faster. Ginny pulled Harry's face towards her for another kiss as her pelvis squeezed excitedly around him. He pulled further out now, almost sliding out of her completely before coming back down with more force.

They finished their kiss, enabling Ginny to lie back and reach behind her to grip the edge of the bed behind her.

"Oh yes ... yes..." she whispered.

Harry's pace quickened again. Coming down with more force, he now placed a hand on each of her breasts and massaged them, allowing their natural sensitivity to do their own job in adding to Ginny's pleasure. Ginny's whispers turned to moans as she pushed her chest further into his hands and urged him to go faster.

At last Pansy started seeing something that looked like what she and Harry did together. His hands now joined hers on the bed head to act as some kind of support as his thrusts became quick and desperate. Normally a fairly quiet person, he started grunting with each thrust as Ginny's pelvis rose to meet him.

"Come on Gin, come on," he murmured. He reached down with one hand and started massaging her clit with two fingers.

That must have been what did it, because the next thing Pansy saw was Ginny shrieking as she clutched desperately at Harry's shoulder. Three harried thrusts later and her face broke into an enormous grin. The grip her legs had on Harry visibly slackened, and he continued to thrust violently into her as she rode out what Pansy was prepared to wager was the most intense orgasm she had had in some time. As hers seemed to end, Harry shouted out Ginny's name and grabbed at the bed head again as he found his release as well.

Harry collapsed on top of Ginny, who lazily brought her arms around him as they lay, catching their breath, for several moments. Pansy, meanwhile, downed the rest of her wine and removed her shoes before standing up.

Harry looked up to see Pansy standing in front of them, a satisfied smile on her face.

"You enjoyed the show, I trust?" He asked, swiping his hair off his forehead.

"Very much so," she answered. She shimmied slightly, and her dress fell to the floor, revealing a very naked Pansy Parkinson underneath.

Ginny's mouth fell open at the sight of Pansy in all her glory. To Pansy's immense satisfaction, she was fairly sure she saw a flash of lust in Ginny's expression as well.

"Now this time," Pansy said, climbing into the bed next to them, "I insist on playing a more active part."


End file.
